Speed of Sound
by Lara-Van
Summary: What if Daphne had acted on her conscience in Dying of the Light? How would the confrontation between Peter and Arthur have been different? What would have happened next? Daphter/Ensemble
1. Intervene

Title: Speed of Sound

Author: Lara-Van

Rating: PG

Pairings: Daphne/Peter, Sylar/Elle

Summary: What if Daphne had acted on her conscience in Dying of the Light? How might the confrontation between Peter and Arthur been different? What would have happened next?

This was inspired by that look that was on Daphne's face when she was watching Arthur power-rape Peter. She was just so horrified and disgusted by what was happening... I like to think that maybe she would have done something about it if she'd figured out what was going to happen before it did. And once again, I KNOW I shouldn't be starting a new fic when I've got SO many in-progress, but I solemnly swear to update this [occasionally].

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The doors flew open with a bang, and Daphne stared around for the source of their movement. All at once, a man slid into visibility. Daphne blinked; surely the handsome stranger hadn't been there just a few moments before...? But she was getting very used to everyone else's weirdness. She hadn't even jumped when Flint's hands flamed up right next to her. This guy must just be an invisible man. Not really all that odd...

Her surprise was great, therefore, when he formed twin balls of electricity into his palms. Wasn't there some kind of limit on how many powers somebody could have? But then, she supposed, there was Sylar, and Arthur Petrelli, of course...

Knox moved as if to block the newcomer from entering the room, and Daphne immediately felt the need to protect him from what was sure to be a vicious attack. Whoever he was, she could tell from his face that he was a good person. He didn't deserve to be savaged by Knox.

"It's alright," Arthur said, without turning around. "He's my son." He rotated to face the stunned young man. "Hello Peter," he said.

"Dad?" Peter gasped, shocked. "How is this possible? You-you're dead!"

Arthur shook his head. "It's a long story," he said by way of explanation.

"So you're behind all this?" Peter said, a look of deep hurt and betrayal creeping across his face as he began to understand. "You hurt Mom?" Daphne winced at the expression in his dark brown eyes. He looked so forlorn, as if his whole world had just come crashing down. She wished there was something she could do to make this right. It _was_ partially her fault, after all. She was working for Petrelli.

"We need to talk," Arthur said, stepping toward him. "Come give your father a hug."

Peter took a step back, shaking his head slightly, recoiling in fear and uncertainty. Arthur snorted in unsurprised laughter. "It's alright Peter," he said. But Daphne recognized the tone in his voice. In his profile, she could read the hungry look that crept across his features right before he... Oh god. Oh no.

"Keep your hands off of him!" she yelled, surprising even herself.

Arthur whirled around. "What's that, Miss Milllbrook?" he said, irritation and carefully-controlled rage contorting his face.

She leaned past him to meet Peter's startled gaze. "Don't trust him!" she said. "He's just trying to steal your powers!" Infuriated, Arthur whirled, reaching for Peter's shoulder. His hand made contact and there was a brief flash of white light. But Daphne was too quick- naturally. One fractured second later, both she and Peter were standing outside the building. "Great," she said, throwing her arms about wildly in irritation. "I guess I just totally lost my job, saving your sorry ass."

"W-what?" Peter asked. "What did you just--?"

She groaned. "Come on," she said. "We can't stay here. They'll be after us any second now, and I personally do _not_ want to meet up with an angry Knox. He's psycho."

Peter furrowed his brows in confusion. "But... but what was it that was going to happen?"

Daphne sighed in irritation. "Your charming father was about to take your powers away. Permanently. I'm sick of seeing him do that to people. And frankly, working for these crazies was getting kinda old. So I'm going as far away from here as I can get, and if you're smart, you'll do the same thing."

She disappeared with a whoosh and a puff of dust. Twenty seconds later, she had arrived in Paris. She set off at a normal walking pace toward her apartment, enjoying the sight of the sun that was just beginning to come up over the horizon, and the early-morning bustle of the City of Lights.

Suddenly, Peter appeared next to her. "How... how are you here?" she asked in surprise.

He shrugged. "I can do whatever you can do. I mimic other peoples' abilities, absorb them like a sponge. That's what _I _do." Daphne looked at him in surprise, but didn't comment. "Look, father or no father, I have to stop what Pinehearst is doing. It's _wrong_, and I think you know that. You worked with them. Would you help me?"

Daphne intended to refuse. Right now, it was best that she just forget the whole job for Pinehearst had ever happened, and do what she did best. It was best that she just run away. She could take care of herself, if she just kept running and never looked back.

But as she met Peter's pleading brown eyes, something gave way inside her. _Dammit_, she thought. "Alright," she said with a sigh. She was going to regret this for sure, but for some reason she just couldn't refuse that puppy-dog expression. And she couldn't quite bring herself to regret it just yet, when a look of elation broke out across his face in the form of a lopsided grin.

"Thanks. You know," he said, "we weren't properly introduced. I'm Peter Petrelli. Obviously."

She grinned. "I'm Daphne Millbrook. Fastest woman alive." He laughed, but suddenly stopped, frowning in confusion.

"What?" she asked.

"The Hunger," he said slowly. "It's gone." She narrowed her eyes, shaking her head to indicate her confusion. He sighed. "It's a long story, but I accidentally absorbed Sylar's power for intuitive aptitude, and... it comes with a side effect. You know who Sylar is?"

Daphne nodded. "Sure. Head-slicing serial killer, what's not to love, right?"

He laughed again. "Well, when I picked up his ability, I... had the irresistible urge to rip everybody's skull open to find out how their power worked." She grimaced in disgust. "But... it's gone now," he said in wonderment. "I guess... I guess when my dad touched me he managed to get that one away from me."

"His loss," she said, still feeling unsettled by his description of the Hunger.

Peter nodded. "Yeah. I wonder if he got anything else..." He held up his hands, forming little balls of electricity. For a moment he went invisible before snapping back. He levitated a few pebbles, proving he still had Sylar's telekinesis. His hands flickered with radiation. Pulling out his pocket knife, he made a small slice on the back of his hand, which healed instantly. Dredging up a vague memory of the super-strong blonde from Kirby Plaza, he bent a parking meter in half before straightening it back into its original position. Then he passed his hand right through the metal. He leapt off the pavement, hovering in the air, which drew stares from the few people already out on the streets.

Then he made a face. "Well, I kept almost everything. But I can't teleport, and I can't... can't read your mind."

Daphne cocked her head to the side, studying him. "Quite an arsenal," she said matter-of-factly. "Who'd you pick up the telepathy from? It wouldn't happen to be Matt Parkman, would it?"

"Actually," he said, "it was. Do you know him?"

"Unfortunately," she muttered. "He's kind of stalkerish, though. Apparently he had some kind of dream that we were supposed to get married in the future or whatever, and now he's a little bit obsessed with me."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Really? That doesn't sound much like Parkman."

She shrugged. "Whatever. Look, I've got an apartment here in the city. We can crash there until you figure out what you're going to do about Pinehearst, okay?"

"That sounds... excellent," Peter said. "And Daphne... thanks for saving my life back there."

She shook her head. "It's what anybody would have done. Anybody completely crazy, that is."

"I don't think you're crazy," he said softly. "I think you're brave."

"That makes you the minority," she muttered, attempting to squash the happy little flutter her heart had given at his words. No one had ever thought she was brave before.... She shook her head, clearing the thought away. "Come on, Sponge-boy. We've got work to do."

_**To Be Continued...**_


	2. Strategy

**A Note From Lara: Sorry it's been awhile since I updated this. I know. I'm a bad, bad person. **

**In any case, as you may have guessed, Daphne's actions won't just influence Peter's storyline. There will be a ripple effect for at least four characters, and probably more as I get further in.**

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_Two days later..._

Daphne sat on the front steps of the apartment building, her one hand supporting her chin, the other dangling across her knee as she stared out across the city. Peter watched her surreptitiously from the window, thinking. For the last forty-eight hours, they had been trying to come up with a plan to stop Pinehearst and his father, but neither of them was having much inspiration. Daphne didn't have a clue what they were really up to. She didn't know what their overall plan was. He had actually gotten quite irritated with her over it this morning...

_"What do you mean, 'I don't know'?" he half-shouted. "You worked for them, didn't you?"_

_She stood before him with her arms crossed, one hip cocked out, and a mulish expression on her face. "Yeah, I did. As a _messenger_. I wasn't exactly Daddy Dearest's closest confidante. He told me to find stuff. Or people. I did it. He payed me. That was it."_

_"Well, you must have seen something!" Peter exclaimed. "Anything at all to help us figure out what they're planning."_

_Daphne shook her head. "That's the thing about super-speed. You're gone so fast, you don't exactly have time to overhear top-secret conversations or rifle through files of classified documents." Her eyes were narrowed in frustration as she glared up at him. "And I wasn't too keen to get in really deep with what they were doing. Like I said, I knew they were bad news."_

_Peter threw up his hands in frustration. "Then why the hell were you working for them?" he shouted, really angry now._

_"Because I was scared, okay?" she yelled back, equally incensed. "I am _terrified_ of your father. I know what he can do. I didn't want that to happen to me! I..." Her angry shout softened, but she continued with just as much fervor as before. "I can't go back to the way things were before..." She trailed away, the honesty of what she was saying finally becoming too much and halting the flow of her words._

_Something about the carefully concealed pain behind her expressive dark eyes reached him, and all the anger fell away. "What was it like before?" he asked._

_But the walls were back up. "Look, Peter, I may have had a moment of temporary insanity when I saved your ass back at Pinehearst, but I barely know you. I'm not exactly about to have some tender heart-to-heart about how much my life sucks, alright?" She had taken off in a blur of speed, and he wisely decided not to follow her this time._

Daphne had been gone for much of the morning, and had only just returned an hour or so ago. She had sat down on the step, and stared at the people walking past, and she hadn't moved from that spot yet. It was the longest he had ever seen her sit still in the whole time he'd known her.

He'd briefly considered going out to talk to her, and apologize for getting so angry this morning, but he didn't really know what to say. He was right, after all. He didn't need to apologize for her lack of observation skills. But still, they needed to figure out what to do. It had been two days since they'd fled Pinehearst, and that was two days his father and the others had had to advance whatever they were planning. They had to take action, and fast. And the others had to know what was going on. He had to tell Nathan that Dad was alive, and he had to try and help his mother, if he could...

Peter shook his head. _ Get over it, Petrelli, just go talk to her._ His own stupid pride didn't matter right now. The world needed saving. He had to prevent the horrible twisted future he had seen, and he and Daphne were the only ones who knew it. He took a deep breath, then sped down out of the apartment and down to the front door. Moving at a more normal pace, he pushed open the door and walked down the short flight of steps to sit next to her. For a moment, they sat in silence, both avoiding each other's gaze and looking at the people walking past in front of them.

"Sorry," he said finally. "I shouldn't have jumped down your throat this morning."

She shrugged, and didn't respond for awhile. He was beginning to get irritated with her silence when she said, "I did some thinking. I was wondering about what you said about Suresh in the future. How he helped you, or whatever. So I went to find him. He's working for Pinehearst now."

Peter groaned. "Dammit. I had thought I could trust him. Mohinder came through for me before..."

Daphne glanced at him. "Yeah, well, I'm guessing that was before he injected him with some nasty thing that made him start growing scales."

"Already?" She nodded, and he swore under his breath. "That's just great," he muttered. "Well, as much as I wish we could avoid dragging anyone else into this, we need help. We can't exactly take down Pinehearst and my... father... all by ourselves."

She raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that? You've got quite an arsenal tucked away in your brain."

He shook his head, but he couldn't help smiling. "I'm sure. I can't take on the whole organization by myself. But... I think I know who might be able to help us. I hate to say it, but there's really only one person who's likely to help us now. Unless, of course, you want to go find Parkman and ask him to help us."

Daphne let out a burst of sarcastic laughter. "Yeah right. Matt seems like a nice guy and all, and I'm sure he means well, but I'd rather not listen to any more about how we're going to be _so_ happy together in the future. So who exactly is this mystery guy you'd really rather not ask?"

Peter grimaced. "Sylar."

"Really. I know I'm going to regret asking this, but... why do you think he'll help us?" she asked. "I mean, last time I checked, Pinehearst was working round-the-clock to get him on their list of assets. And since he's sort of a murderer, I'd think he'd be more likely to side with them than with us."

"He's... well, he's my brother" Peter admitted slowly. To Daphne's credit, she didn't do anything more than give him a surprised look. "I didn't know anything about it until a few days ago, but he says he's trying to change, and I think we really need his help. He's powerful. And when I met him in the future, he really had changed. He was a good person."

"Right before he went nuclear."

"Well... yeah."

"So we're going to ask a walking, talking, serial-killing bomb to help us?"

Peter gave her a disgruntled look. "Aside from the murder bit, you just described me."

"Oh, that's right. You do the nuke thing too. Remind me why I let you hide out in my apartment?"

"Because you're a good person?"

Daphne shrugged. "Not that good." After that, she stopped talking and returned to staring out at the people passing them on the sidewalk. She didn't say anything, but her eyes were pensive, and not for the first time, Peter wished he could still read minds so he could figure out what went on inside her head. She was a complete mystery to him, and it was driving him crazy.

--Matt--

_Yesterday..._

Matt sighed. He had waited here in the airport all night, hoping Daphne would show up again. But she had never returned after her sad pronouncement that he couldn't save her. He needed to save her. He had to, the happy future he had foreseen was to be preserved. He glanced down at the business card she had pressed into his hand at the beginning of their conversation. Pinehearst Industries. The company she worked for. They had wanted him to join. They wanted him as an associate or an agent or whatever. Maybe if he pretended to join, pretended to help them, he could get close to her again and convince her to leave with him?

It was crazy, he knew, but the decision had already formed in his mind. He was doing this.

Two hours later, he was pulling up in front of the chic-looking building that bore the address printed on the card. He left his car in the part of the parking lot marked as "Employee Parking." That was what he was now. Or at least, what he was going to pretend to be. He hurried up the tree-lined walk, feeling like someone was watching him the whole time. The feeling didn't go away as he entered the building and approached the front desk.

A pretty woman with long red hair looked up at him. "Do you have an appointment?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No. My, uh, my name's Matt Parkman. I was offered a job here, and I was hoping to speak to someone about that." The redhead nodded and began checking something on her computer.

"Alright," she said after a moment. "Mr. Petrelli is free at the moment. I can send you up to see him right now."

Matt had meant to say that, actually, he was hoping to speak to the woman who had offered him the job, but at the familiar surname, his tongue froze. He nodded. Mr. Petrelli? He knew two Mr. Petrellis, and neither of them seemed likely to be involved in an organization like this. Although, with the psychotic future version of Peter who was currently running around doing god-knows-what, who knew what was what with that family?

"Okay," he said. "Where do I go?"

"Fifteenth floor," the woman said with a bright, plastic smile. "Third door on the right past the west elevators." She pointed toward a bank of lifts at the end of the foyer. "Pair of big glass doors. You can't miss it."

Matt thanked her and hurried off toward the elevators, intent on his goal.

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**See what I mean about ripple effects? Review and let me know what you think.**


	3. Grandfather

**A/N That's Actually Important: **Alright, I just wanted to make a couple of notes on storyline here. Peter's not being (totally) power-raped would affect several storylines. The one most relevant to Peter and Daphne's storyline is, of course, Sylar. Because Peter didn't get imprisoned at Pinehearst, Angela didn't dream about him being in danger, and so didn't wake Sylar up. Therefore, Sylar is still at Primatech. Everything else is pretty self-explanatory, but that needed to be explained. Now what are you still reading this for? Go read that! *points at story*

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_Earlier Today..._

"Listen, Claire, thanks," Elle said, twisting her long blonde hair around her finger uncomfortably.

The ex-cheerleader glanced at her. "For what?"

Elle sighed. "For-- it's just nice to know you're as messed up as I am."

"Everyone has problems," Claire said, but she was nodding. She had hated the electric Company girl from the minute they met, but somehow, this little trip had changed her outlook on a lot of things. "We should probably go in," she said, pointing at the building looming in front of them. Elle shrugged, and together they walked into Pinehearst.

They walked uncertainly into the posh foyer, both feeling inadequate and out of place in the face of so much stainless-steel-and-granite efficiency. A pretty redheaded secretary approached them. "Elle Bishop?" she asked. "Claire Bennet?" The girls nodded uncertainly. She smiled. "Mr. Petrelli has been expecting you. Please, follow me."

Completely nonplussed, they trailed after the woman, who didn't bother to see if they were following. "Mr. _Petrelli_?" Elle hissed. "What is she talking about?"

"I don't know," Claire said, feeling a chill creeping up her spine. Coming here had seemed like a good idea yesterday, but suddenly things seemed much more sinister.

They entered a brass-fronted elevator. The woman pressed the button for the fifteenth floor, and both Elle and Claire felt a faint wave of dizziness from the g-force as the lift rose with unexpected speed. "So... um... " Claire ventured, "how exactly did Mr. Petrelli know we were coming?"

The woman looked surprised. "You don't have an appointment?"

"Well, not really," Elle said. "Some girl came and found me last week and told me to come here, but..."

The concerned look disappeared from the woman's face. "Ah. That explains it." She nodded, and didn't speak again, leaving the two blondes more confused than ever.

Suddenly, Claire's phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket, and read the text. She was amazed to see that it came from Peter. _Claire,_ it said. _There's a new company called Pinehearst. They're the ones who are going to cause a future I went to, where everyone has abilities. They're extremely dangerous. If they find you, you need to get away, as fast as you can. Don't trust them._ What did he mean? What future? But she trusted Peter implicitly. He was her hero, and he'd never steered her wrong. If Pinehearst really was as dangerous as he said, she'd been a fool to ever come here.

Claire glanced at Elle, wanting to show her the text, but the other girl was sparking again in worry. She held out her hand, offering Elle somewhere to put her extra charge, but she shook her head. Immediately she twitched in pain as the movement sent a cascade of electricity all across her skin, but her jaw was set stubbornly, and as the elevator doors opened, the sparks died away.

They were led down a pristine, wood-panelled hallway to an imposing door at the end. The redhead opened the door and stuck her head in. "Mr. Petrelli? The guests you were expecting have arrived." From inside, a man's voice replied, "Excellent. Send them in, Melanie." The woman pulled her head out of the door and smiled at them. "Go on in," she said, gesturing to the still-half-open door. After sharing an apprehensive look, Claire walked through the door, trailed closely by Elle.

Only one other person occupied the room, and his back was to them. He appeared to be in his late sixties, with salt-and-pepper hair cropped short over what was clearly an expensive suit. "Miss Bishop," he said without turning around. It's good to see you. It's been a long time."

"I don't think we've met," Elle said a little sharply.

He turned around, a glass of whiskey in his hand, and suddenly she sucked in her breath. "Mr. Petrelli!" she exclaimed in a half-whisper.

He nodded. "The very same."

"B-but you're... you're..."

"No, I can assure you, I'm very much alive. And I'm very glad you've come to see me after all. And I see you've brought a friend." He crossed the distance between them. His hazel eyes bored into Claire's for a moment, then he smiled. "I'm glad to finally meet you, Claire. This should have happened a long time ago?"

She squared her shoulders, staring defiantly into his eyes, the words from Peter's text ringing through her head. "Who are you?" she asked.

He smiled, and Claire couldn't help but think of sharks. "I'm your grandfather."

She'd been expecting something like that. It seemed like every time she turned around, some new relative was crawling out of the woodwork. Didn't mean it didn't get old, but she was used to it by now. "What are you doing here?" she asked. Somehow, it felt like Peter's message had given her the mission she'd been looking for. Time to take down the bad guys. "Why are you trying to give people abilities?"

Arthur smirked wryly at her. "You're a great deal like your father," he said. "Diving right in with no preamble. There'll be plenty of time to talk about all that later. But for now, I want to properly greet my only granddaughter. Come here and give your grandfather a hug..."

_Primatech Paper_

_Odessa_

Peter nearly tripped over his own feet as he skidded to a stop on Level Two. Daphne was leaning against the wall, tapping her foot. "What took you so long?" she asked playfully.

"I only got here two seconds after you!" he exclaimed.

She shrugged, pushing off from the wall. "Yeah, well, you'll learn pretty fast how long a couple of seconds can be to a speedster. Now, last time I was here to get recruits for Pinehearst, Sylar was down on Level Five. Is he still?"

"Yeah, unless they've moved him since yesterday afternoon."

Daphne nodded, then disappeared without warning. Peter couldn't help but smile as he blurred after her. A lot of the powers he'd acquired over the past few months came with heavy responsibilities, or huge consequences. Not speeding, though. It was kind of a release, actually. It was _fun_. Fun was something that had been really missing from his life since that fateful day when he dove off a rooftop trying to fly...

By the time he arrived on Level Five, Daphne was once again waiting for him. "God you're slow," she muttered. "Come on, let's wake him up." She pointed through the sheet of bulletproof glass she was leaning against. Through it, he could see Sylar, unconscious on his concrete slab, just as Peter had left him. He sighed.

A blast of electricity fried the lock on the door, allowing them access even without a key card. Peter walked over to where the ex-serial killer lay, and pulled the shunt out of his nose. Daphne stood next to him, looking curiously at the unconscious man. "So how does this work, exactly?" she asked. "Is he just gonna, like, wake up? Or does it--"

Suddenly, she was flying backwards against the wall. Sylar sat up amazingly fast, his hand outstretched, pinning her against the cinderblocks...

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**I love cliffhangers. Review, pretty please?**


	4. Converge

**A/N: I know I shouldn't be updating this, I ought to be working on something else. But Daphter is eating my brain and making me constantly want to work on my Daphter fics more than anything else. Even more than the Dianne Saga, which is actually starting to invade my dreams and give me plot bunnies like you wouldn't believe. But I don't have my DVD set yet, so I'm back to my Daphter obsession.**

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"You!" Sylar yelled, getting up off the block and tightening his grip on Daphne's throat. "What are you doing here? Your boss send you back to me? What did your company do to my mother?"

Daphne struggled to speak, but no words came out. Suddenly, Sylar flew back against the opposite wall, and the shock was so much, he lost his telekinetic hold on her and she slumped back against the wall, breathing hard. "Leave her alone!" Peter yelled, pinning Sylar against the wall.

"Peter?" the ex-serial killer gasped.

"She's with me," Peter said, deadly serious. "You do not touch her. You do not threaten her. Do you understand?"

Sylar nodded, and Peter released him. "What is she doing here, though?" he asked, rubbing at his chest where Peter had directed the blow. "She works for Pinehearst!"

"_Used_ to work for Pinehearst, you mean," Daphne interrupted, having recovered her equilibrium. She sauntered across the cell to where the two men were glaring at each other. "I sorta got fired when I saved your brother from getting his ass fried by my boss."

"I could've handled it," Peter muttered.

She snorted. "Yeah right," she said. "You didn't have the slightest clue what was about to happen to you. If I hadn't zipped you out of there, you'd be powerless and chained up in a cell somewhere. Who knows? Maybe they'd have used you for one of Dr. Suresh's lab rats."

Sylar looked from one to the other. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

Peter sighed. "My dad's alive. He tried to attack me and apparently take away my powers."

"Our father's alive?" Sylar whispered.

"_My_ father," Peter said sternly. "I was angry before, but I still meant what I said. You are not my family." The dejected look he saw in Sylar's eyes at his words amazed him. Peter began to wonder just how much of the man he'd met in the future was already showing through. Did his nemesis really care this much that his rejection was such a blow to him? Quickly, he amended. "Not yet, anyway. We'll see how things go."

Sylar nodded. "I understand," he said.

Daphne chose this moment to insert herself into the conversation again. "Okay, now that we've gotten all the drama out of the way, we did actually come here for a reason. We kinda need your help if we're gonna do anything about Pinehearst. Because apparently the arsenal he's got stored away--" She jerked her head in Peter's direction. "--Isn't enough to help him take down my ex-employer all by himself."

"You really want my help?" he asked, disbelieving, staring at Peter. The empath sighed, then nodded. And the most amazing thing happened- Sylar smiled. It wasn't his usual menacing leer, either. It was a genuine, happy smile, an expression Peter would never have expected to see on his enemy's face. "Great!" Sylar exclaimed. "What do you need me to do?"

_Pinehearst_

_A Few Minutes Earlier_

Matt tapped his foot nervously as he waited in the plush, if tiny, office he had been assigned at the supposed biotech firm. His new employer, Arthur Petrelli, had accepted him immediately as the newest recruit in "a new world order." He had no idea what was going on here, but he didn't like it. He couldn't read Arthur's mind. Just as when he had first met Peter, there was a huge amount of psychic feedback when he tried, resulting in a killer headache and a complete inability to read Petrelli's mind. Regardless, he had a very bad feeling about whatever it was that they were doing here.

He was supposed to be waiting here for his new partner. From what he understood, Pinehearst operated on a structure vaguely similar to that of the Company- but instead of one of us and one of them, it was one of them and one of them. Sometimes larger teams were called for, but in general, teams of two were all that were required.

Suddenly, the door creaked open and a startlingly familiar face came into the room. "Knox?" Matt gasped. He had known Knox since they were young, both growing up in LA. He had busted him for small-time petty crime several times during Knox's teenage years and had formed a strange sort of friendship with the man before he had become embroiled in a string of violent crimes across the state.

The dark-skinned man grinned. "Hey Parkman," he said. "It's been a long time."

"What are you doin' here, Benjamin?" Matt asked, calling the gangster by his little-used first name in irritation.

Knox grinned. "I got a chance to be somebody now, Parkman," he said. "Hey, looks like you do too! Didn't know you were one of us. I mean, your old man went to some pretty big lengths to protect you, but I didn't know you actually had game! So what is it?"

Matt felt his whole world tilt a little further sideways. "My dad?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure. He's workin' for Arthur. Got this whole thing together, didn't he?" Knox replied. "But seriously, man, what's your power?"

He sighed, trying to put aside the sense of shock that was coursing through him at the news. "I'm a telepath. Like my father."

Knox's eyes lit up. "So you can make people see stuff an all too?" he asked. Matt nodded tiredly. Knox's wicked smile widened. "Ah, that's great, man. You can scare the living shit out of the bastards."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Matt asked.

The gangster shrugged. "I get strong off other people's fear. That's my thing."

Matt nodded, trying to look enthusiastic. "That's... great," he said. "Must come in handy."

"Sure does," he said. "Listen, man, we got an assignment. We're supposed to talk to Mr. Petrelli's son, Nathan or whatever, bring him into the company."

This seemed like a prime opportunity to fish for information on Daphne. "I thought you guy- er, _we_- had somebody to do that kinda stuff already. Isn't there some speedster girl who's supposed to do that for us? She was the one who found me the other day."

Knox smirked. "Yeah, Millbrook. She's, ah, not with the company anymore." _Yeah, idiot took off with Peter Petrelli. When Arthur gets his hands on her, she's a dead woman._

Matt couldn't do anything beyond stare at his one-time friend in dread. Daphne wasn't here. He had gotten himself in with Pinehearst for no reason. But it was too late to back out now. He was stuck.

_Meanwhile..._

Elle threw her arms up against the blinding light that arched between Claire and Arthur as he embraced her. Claire screamed and dropped to her knees as a golden-white light streamed out of her and was absorbed into her grandfather's body. She slumped to one side as the transfer ended.

She rushed to Claire's side, helping her sit up. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Claire nodded, struggling to her feet. "What did you do to me?" she shouted at Arthur.

Her grandfather smirked down at her. "I'm sorry my dear, but you're a threat to my enterprise. I couldn't have you running around trying to take down Pinehearst. I see that my son's been telling you things about me. We can't have that, now." He snapped his fingers and a tall man with a shaved head entered the room through a side door. "Flint, would you please escort your niece down to Cell 15?"

"My niece?" the man asked stupidly.

Arthur's face bespoke irritation. "Yes, Flint. Claire here is Meredith's daughter. Take her to Cell 15."

Claire stared at the men in shock. "What kind of sick joke is this?" she asked.

Arthur shrugged. "No joke, my dear. I can read your mind. You would have been too dangerous to my company if I'd allowed you to go free."

"Too bad," Claire said. "I'm going free anyway, and you can't stop me." She broke away from the little group and hurled herself through the frosted-glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the west wall of the room.

Elle stared after her, hurt and confusion making her spark slightly around the edges. She had thought that maybe- just maybe- Claire could be her friend! And yet, the cheerleader had left her here, with these psychos! Why did everyone in her life leave her? She turned around to see Flint closing in on her...

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**Just a couple of notes- the whole Matt-knows-Knox thing is actually canon. I was watching some deleted scenes from Villains, and it was basically all about Knox and Parkman. Also, Arthur doesn't yet know about the catalyst, and he really did just take Claire's powers because he read her mind and found out about Peter's text. He'll find out later, but it won't be for at least six chapters or so.**


	5. Dialogue

**A/N: Yay! More updates! This story just totally took off in my brain, and now I can't stop thinking about it. This chapter, I will admit, is not my best, but it was written at four in the morning in poor lighting in my calculus notebook. And all my awesome (well, okay, really pathetic) editing skills weren't enough to fix it. But whatever. Enjoy.**

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_Pinehearst_

The noise of shattering glass caused them to look up. As he turned in the direction of the sound, Peter caught sight of a familiar blonde figure tumbling outward in a cloud of broken glass. "Claire!" he yelled. Next to him, Sylar jerked in surprise.

Fifteen stories later, Claire landed with a thud. Daphne sped over to her. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Claire struggled to stand, shaking her head. Her face was white with pain as she managed to climb to her feet. "Why aren't you healing?" Peter gasped.

"It was your dad. He did something to me. Messed with my power. Peter, what are you doing here?"

Peter's face contorted with carefully controlled anger and despair at the news. "We were going to try and stop him, stop what he's trying to do, but..." He ran a hand through his hair distractedly. "Claire, why did you jump if you can't heal?"

She shrugged, wincing as the motion jostled her injured shoulder. "I didn't realize... I didn't understand what he'd done until I realized that my cuts from the glass weren't healing. And by then I was already out the window, so..."

"We've got to get you out of here," Peter said decisively. "We can... we can go to my apartment in the city. Can you carry Sylar with you, Daphne?" At the mention of Sylar, Claire whipped around to stare at the man, who had been standing so still behind his brother, she apparently hadn't noticed him until that moment. But before she could say a word, Daphne had nodded, and Peter said, "Okay, follow me, then." He took Claire gently by the arm and disappeared.

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The door to Peter's apartment was locked, and he was relatively sure his keys had been in his pocket when he had exploded. But he busted the lock apart with careful application of the super-strength he'd picked up from the woman on Kirby Plaza, and they were in. Peter made a mental note to pay his super for the damages when this nightmare was over.

He carefully ushered a limping Claire across the threshold and guided her to an armchair. She sank into it with a soft moan of pain. "I think I dislocated my shoulder when I hit the ground," she said between clenched teeth.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing I'm a nurse," he said, attempting to coax a smile from her.

"Wait, you're a nurse?" Daphne asked from the kitchen. "I didn't know that."

"Yes, well, I didn't either, and I'm his brother," Sylar said, a surprisingly lighthearted expression on his face. Daphne snorted.

As Peter set to work testing Claire's shoulder to assess the damage, he called out, "And before you get started on it, just remember that I've already heard every conceivable male nurse joke." Laughter issued from the kitchen, and he tried to suppress the thought that this might be the most surreal thing ever to happen to him. He had a serial killer, who was also his brother, sitting in his apartment making jokes with a speedster/thief who used to work for his father who apparently wasn't dead anymore, and he was tending to his immortal niece who wasn't immortal after all. It was all a little much, even after the turmoil of the last six months of his life.

After a few minutes, he sat back. "I don't think it's dislocated," he said. "A couple of torn muscles is all. Maybe some deep bruising as well."

Claire nodded, but her face was strained. "Peter," she said in a low voice, "What are you doing with _him_? It's bad enough that my dad's working with him, but you too?"

He sighed. "I don't like it much more than you do, Claire. But we need his help to stop my father. We need him to save the future. And besides, he's... well, he's sorta my brother."

It came like a physical blow to the ex-cheerleader, and left her leaning hard against the back of the chair. "Your brother?" she asked quietly. When Peter nodded, she sighed. "That would make him my uncle."

Peter shrugged. "It's a surprise to me, too. But after all the things that've happened the last few months, I'm not too shocked by anything anymore."

"I know what you mean," she said, "but that doesn't mean you have to _work _with him! That monster attacked me, cut open my skull, left me bleeding on the goddamn coffee table! He deserves to be... to be..." She seemed unable to come up with an appropriate sentence for him.

"I _can_ hear you, you know," Sylar said, leaning around the door frame. Claire glared at him; he gave her a sardonic smile and returned to the kitchen.

Peter turned back to her. "Look, Claire, he and I have never exactly been the best of friends. But it's not entirely his fault that he is the way he is. When I was in the future, I took his power. His original power, I mean. Intuitive aptitude. It's what allows him to understand how everyone else's powers work. And it comes with... side effects. There's this... _need_... to understand. To have. I attacked my own mother while I had his power."

Suddenly, Sylar leaned back into the room. "Wait, _had _my power? Past tense?"

The empath nodded. "Yeah. Look, it's a long story. But Claire, the point is, it's not really his fault. I'm not saying--" He shot a glare over his shoulder at the other man, "--That he doesn't have some major issues. But that hunger would turn anyone into a killer. Give him a shot. Just for now." Claire hesitated, but nodded.

"Thank you Peter," Sylar said. "That means a lot."

"I may not like it," he replied, "but we're in this together now. I beat you up and put a shunt in your head. You've killed me a couple of times. Neither of us is particularly proud of it, but... well, we can't let the past dictate the future. So... bygones?"

Sylar nodded. "Bygones."

Daphne danced into the room, munching on a handful of potato chips she had unearthed from somewhere in his pantry. She wandered around the room, scrutinizing his possessions. "Why's all your stuff in boxes?" she asked suddenly.

"Who exactly are you?" Claire asked, not allowing Peter to respond to her question.

"Name's Daphne," the speedster said offhandedly.

Claire raised her eyebrows. "Yeah, because that tells me so much about you."

Daphne shrugged. "What's to tell? I grew up in Kansas, moved to Paris, and got hired by Pinehearst. Two days ago, I saved Peter's life. Now Arthur Petrelli's out for blood." Her face fell and she amended, "Not that he wasn't before, but now it's me he's after. But that doesn't answer _my_ question: Why is all your stuff packed up?"

Peter glanced at Claire. "That's a good question. I haven't been here since November."

She frowned. "Well, we were sorta on the run, so I'm not sure. But I think while you were missing, Nathan packed up most of your things for safekeeping."

A tense silence fell, as no one could find any way to respond to that. Finally, with an obvious effort, Peter said, "Claire, you've got some pretty bad cuts. I should take a look at those." He opened his first aid kit, pulled out a bottle of antiseptic, and began dabbing it on the deep gash on her forehead. She sucked in a breath through her teeth at the sting.

"So," Daphne said slowly, "something's been bothering me. How are you alive?" Claire looked at her mutely. "No, seriously, how did you survive that fall? Fifteen stories without your healing power or whatever... you should be a pancake."

"It felt like..." Claire hesitated, then drew a deep breath and plunged on. "Like maybe I wasn't falling as fast as I should have. Like someone was slowing me down. Peter, did you--?"

"Nope," Peter said distractedly, absorbed in bandaging her cuts. "I assumed you'd heal. Shoulda known better. You could've died."

"Yeah, but I _didn't_! That's the point," Claire said, looking confused. "And Daphne's right- without my power, I should have been. So if it wasn't you, then who?"

For a moment, they were silent. Then, almost simultaneously, three heads swiveled around to stare at Sylar. He returned their gazes steadily, and didn't respond beyond a raised eyebrow.

Daphne opened her mouth to say something, but before she could get the words out, Claire gasped.

"Oh, sorry, I should've warned you that was going to sting--" Peter said, but Claire shook her head.

"No," she said. "No, it's not that. It's Elle!"

"Elle?" Peter and Sylar gasped simultaneously.

Claire leapt to her feet, injured shoulder forgotten in her sudden panic. "Peter, I just left her there! She came to Pinehearst with me, we were hoping they could help us with-- and when your dad attacked me, I panicked and jumped out the window and... oh god, I just abandoned her! Peter, we have to go back! We have to help her!"


	6. Electric

**A/N: I know, I know, I ought to be working on my other fics, but I just can't get this one out of my head. And I know, as I'm sure certain people will remind me in their reviews, that I haven't updated WTRL in a long time. But I'm still waiting on the DVD set, which Spencer STILL hasn't given back! But as soon as I get that, I'll update the Dianne Saga and things will get back on a regular schedule.**

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_Peter's Apartment- Manhattan_

"Claire, slow down," Peter said, grabbing her wrist to prevent her from dashing out the door. "What are you talking about?"

She pulled away from him. "Elle came with me to Pinehearst. Her ability was out of control and she needed help. I was worried because after _he_ attacked me--" She shot an angry look at Sylar. "--I couldn't feel pain anymore. Elle had been contacted by some Pinehearst agent telling her to go there, but she was too scared to go alone. I went with her to try and find some answers. And now she's all alone in there with no one to watch her back. Peter, we've got to get her out of there! If Pinehearst is really as dangerous as you said, she could be in real trouble."

Daphne broke in suddenly. "Elle is the sparky, crazy one, right?" she asked.

"Yeah," Claire said. "Do you know her?"

The speedster looked away, avoiding their eyes. "Sort of," she mumbled. Peter was keenly aware that something was bothering her, but it didn't seem like the best moment to ask her what it was.

"Alright, come on!" Claire said. "We've got to go."

"Hang on a second," Peter said, hesitating. "We can't just run in there without a plan. We don't really have any idea what we're up against. And besides... you're not coming."

Claire looked mutinous, but before she could make a reply, Daphne said, "They'll be keeping her in the cell block down on the lower levels. I still have my access card, so unless they've changed the lock system, we can get in and out and no one will even realize we were there until they see she's missing."

Peter grinned. "Thanks, Daph. Let's get going."

Daphne walked uncharacteristically slowly to the door and stepped outside. Peter moved to follow her, but Claire stepped in his path. "I'm coming, too," she said stubbornly.

"You're hurt, Claire," he protested.

She shook her head. "I don't care. Peter, you once put a gun in my hand and told me to kill you if it meant saving the world. You had faith in me _that_ day. Have some in me today."

He paused, considering it. If Daphne was right, it wouldn't really be all that dangerous, provided they moved quickly and didn't run into anyone too powerful. But just as he was about to relent, an image of the hard-bitten, murderous future Claire flashed before his eyes, complete with dyed-dark hair and deadly aim. There was no way he was going to do anything that could put her on that path. He just couldn't bear it if she became that woman. "Next time," he said, half-lying. "You can come with us next time. But right now, you need to give your shoulder a break, okay?"

She looked furious, but with a sigh, she acquiesced. "Fine," she muttered. "But I want to help, somehow."

Peter laid a hand on her shoulder, trying to convey an apology, but her emerald eyes held an accusation he didn't understand. He dropped his hand and turned away. "Come on, Sylar," he said, heading for the door.

Sylar, who had been silent through the whole exchange, shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Peter, I... I'm not really sure I should come with you either."

"What?! Why?"

He looked incredibly uncomfortable. "I think Elle would rather be our father's prisoner for the rest of her life than be rescued by me," he said.

"We can explain," Peter argued. "We can tell her that you're trying to change, that you're helping us now--"

But Sylar shook his head. "It's not that simple. My history with Elle is... complicated." The look on his face was impossible to read, but Peter realized that this was one subject he would be wise not to push too far.

"Okay," he said slowly. "I guess you're staying here, too. Claire, you don't mind do you?"

She grimaced. "Oh no, why would I mind? The last time we were alone in a room together, he only sliced my head open and screwed with my brain."

Peter suppressed a groan of frustration. "Claire, please. I know it's not easy, but could you please try to get along with him? Just for half an hour or so, then we'll be back, okay?" Claire just shrugged and turned away from him. He looked over at Sylar. "If my apartment is destroyed when I come back..." He left the sentence hanging as threateningly as he could, then followed Daphne out of the apartment.

_Meanwhile, at Pinehearst..._

Knox was humming tunelessly under his breath as they strode down a sterile hallway on the ground floor of Pinehearst. Suddenly, he stopped, putting a hand on Matt's arm to halt him. "What's the problem, Officer?" he asked with a leer. Then he chuckled at his own joke. "You're terrified."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The gangster stepped in front of him. "Now Parkman, don't try to lie to me, not about that. I always know. What's got you freaked?"

Matt shrugged. "Just... a little nervous, I guess. New job. I wanna make a good first impression, you know?"

The suspicion in Knox's dark eyes faded away. He smirked. "You always were worried about what people think about you. Guess that's why you're a mind-reader, huh?"

Matt grinned uncomfortably. "I guess," he said.

"Listen," Knox said, "since it's your first day, I'll cut you a break. I'll go get the car this time. The walk to where they park the company cars is a real bitch." He turned and walked out the door, leaving Matt alone in the deserted corridor with nothing but his thoughts for company.

How had he gotten himself into this situation? He wasn't entirely sure what Pinehearst was up to, but even without Daphne's warning to stay away, he'd have been able to tell that whatever it was was no good. He had somehow thrown himself into some very, very deep waters, and he wasn't sure quite how he was going to get himself out again. As a police officer, he was used to dealing with less-than-admirable people, but this was different. This wasn't just a petty criminal like Knox- _like Knox used to be_, he corrected himself- this was something much more sinister. And he had no idea what to do now. Daphne wasn't even here. He had set out to save her, but he wasn't doing a very good job of it. The only thing he could think to do now was to stay with Pinehearst and try to dig up something that could be used to stop... whatever it was they were up to.

_Stupid, stupid... idiot girl... got yourself in trouble like you always do..._

The half-panicked, desperate thoughts caught at his mind very suddenly, and he stood very still, as though it would help him hear them better.

_Shoulda known better than to trust another Company... _

_Claire_ betrayed_ you! Left you alone...!_

_Just like everyone does... Mom... Daddy... Gabriel..._

Unconsciously, completely against his better judgement, his feet carried him back up the hallway a ways, and through a door that lead to the stairs to the underground levels. He was following the woman's despairing thoughts straight down the stairs and along a corridor full of what appeared to be empty cells.

Only... one cell wasn't empty. The barrage of a tormented consciousness was emanating from behind the heavy steel door. Matt pulled out his newly-issued Pinehearst passcard, then hesitated. This was insane. Knox would be back with the car any second, expecting him. It would be incredibly suspicious if he accidentally let some prisoner out of her cell his very first day here. It would compromise his newfound mission.

But he had to talk to this girl, whoever she was. Obviously, her being held here was completely unconstitutional (not that the Company had been any different, of course), but it was more than that. She had to have done something Arthur Petrelli didn't like, or she wouldn't be chained up down here. And whatever it was, it might give him some insight into what they were planning. He had to know. And so, not wasting any more time, he swiped his card through the magnetic lock on the door. A light flickered green, and the bolt inside the handle slid back. He pulled the door open and stepped inside the cell.

She was chained to the floor, lying in a heap against the far wall. At first, that was all he could make out about her in the darkness of the cell. At the sound of the door opening, however, she sat up, and moved into the strip of light cast from the doorway. She had a long mane of pale blonde hair, and huge, innocent-looking blue eyes. She was tiny, and hardly looked more than twenty-three. He was appalled.

A line of lightning flickered across her skin, causing her to twitch in pain. Then those blue eyes narrowed, and she raised a hand filled with crackling energy. A split second before she fired, Matt realized what she was going to do. The physical training he had gone through when he joined the NYPD served him well and he dropped to the ground. Her bolt of deadly blue electricity split the air above his head in two and left a smell of ozone in the cell.

"Tell Arthur Petrelli to get fucked," she screamed. "I'm not gonna tell him anything!"

"Hey, hey," Matt said, climbing to his feet. "I'm not working for Arthur! Well, I am, but not... I'm just..." He couldn't come up with a way to put it right, so he changed tact. "What's your name?"

_Elle._

"Elle?"

Her eyes widened and she hurried to get to her feet as well. "How did you know that?" Then her expression relaxed and she half-smiled, crossing the floor to stand facing him, as close as her chains would allow her to come. "Oh yeah, I remember. You're that telepath Glasses brought in last year. Parkman, right?"

Matt nodded. "Why are they keeping you locked up?" he asked.

She glared at the corner where, he realized belatedly, a security camera was mounted. He was suddenly very glad he hadn't been able to find a way to explain his double-agent status. Elle shrugged. "I was with the damn cheerleader when I came in. Apparently that's reason enough to get locked up around here."

"Cheerleader...?" he asked.

_Claire _fucking_ Bennet. Convinced me to come here, then dumped me the second things got scary..._

"Claire?" he gasped. "Bennet's daughter? What was she doing _here_?"

Elle shrugged dismissively. "It's a long story, and--" Suddenly, she convulsed as a ripple of electricity tore through her body. The sparks cracked across her skin and brought her gasping to her knees. Tears of pain spilled, apparently unbidden, across her face, and the added moisture only increased the current running through her. She moaned through tightly clenched lips, appearing to be holding back a scream. Matt tried desperately to get inside her head, to find what was causing her ability to react this way, but he was repelled by the intensity of pain overflowing her mind.

And suddenly, Knox was there, stabbing a hypodermic filled with some sort of sedative into her neck. She gasped once, then collapsed as though all her bones had suddenly turned to water.

The man smiled, then turned to face Matt, the grin being replaced with a dangerous look. "What are you doing here, Parkman?" he asked in a terrifyingly calm voice.

"I-- I heard her thoughts," Matt said lamely. "I was curious and came down here. She didn't seem all that dangerous, so I figured there wasn't any harm in talking to her..."

Knox's hand whipped out and smacked him across the face so hard, he shot backward into the wall with a heavy thud. "Idiot!" Knox yelled. "You oughta know better than that. If somebody's in here, they stay right here and that door _does not open_ unless Mr. Petrelli says so."

"I'm sorry," Matt mumbled.

The other man's face softened. "It's alright, man, everybody screws up. I'll cover for you. But this is the last time, alright?"

Matt stood to his feet, forcing a fraternal smile to match Knox's. "Thanks, man." But inside, he was fighting down a stirring of fear. If he hadn't known it before, Matt realized that he was in a very, very bad situation.

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**There was originally going to be a good Daphter scene at the end of this chapter, but since this is already rather longer than the other chapters and I'm trying to keep them semi-even, I'll be putting it in Chapter 7. So that's my pathetic excuse as to why there have been so many chapters with no Daphter: it's coming. Maybe I could convince it to come faster if I were to get some reviews...*hint hint hint***


	7. Rescue

**A/N: This is kind of a short chapter compared to the last one, but I figure it all balances out that way. Either way, we've come up to the first big Daphter scene so far in this fic. So enjoy! (and express your enjoyment in reviews...)**

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Daphne was waiting for him in the hall, but she'd clearly been expecting his tussle with Claire and Sylar to take longer, because for the first time since he'd met her, her defenses were completely down. She had her back pressed flat against the wall, staring across the hallway, and her eyes were haunted. She didn't seem to realize he'd come out until he slammed the door shut behind him. She jumped, but the surprise didn't shock her out of her disconsolate state of mind.

Peter hesitated, not wanting to push the boundaries she had made very obvious, but she looked so hopeless, he decided to give it a shot. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah." She sighed. "No. Peter, this is my fault." She looked up at him and her wide brown eyes were agonized. "None of this would have happened if I hadn't been working for Arthur."

He shook his head firmly. "No, Daphne, you can't blame--"

"Yes I can!" she said, her voice rising heatedly as she began to pace the hallway in agitation. "I was the one who told Elle to go to Pinehearst! I told her. She would never have gone there if it wasn't for me. And I found Adam Monroe and took him to Arthur so he could take his power! I stole the formula from Hiro Nakamura! All of this... it's all my fault!"

"Everybody does things they regret," Peter said consolingly. He was intrigued by the sudden mention of two more familiar names, but now wasn't the time to get into it.

She snorted. "Not you. You're a hero, Peter. I'm a villain." A look of horrified revelation came over her face very suddenly. "I'm a Nemesis. Hiro was right. I'm a bad guy."

"No, you're not!" he insisted.

Daphne halted suddenly in her pacing and whirled to face him. "You don't even know me!" she said accusingly.

"I don't have to," he said. "I can tell what kind of person you are, and Daphne, you're not a villain. You seriously think I haven't done bad things? I almost exploded New York City. I was nearly tricked into releasing a virus that would have wiped out the entire planet. But those things happened because I didn't realize what I was doing. You didn't either. You were just trying to use your ability to make a good life for yourself. You couldn't have known where it was leading. And when you did see it, you took a different path. You're still doing the right thing, trying to fix your mistakes. That's what matters. So stop beating yourself up, okay?"

"Maybe you're just biased because I saved your life," she said, trying to sound skeptical, but he could see that she was fighting back a smile.

He grinned, and her own mouth twitched unconsciously upward in response. "Maybe," he said, "but I'm still right."

She spread her hands in defeat. "Fine," she said, "you win. I'm not evil."

"Ready to run?"

Daphne winked at him. "Always. It's good to actually have somebody who can keep up with me. Being too fast to catch is great, but--"

"But it gets lonely, right?" Peter finished for her.

Her smile widened. "Exactly. Come on." She blurred away, and with a chuckle, he took off after her.

_Pinehearst_

_A few seconds later..._

Daphne paused at the end of the oak-lined sidewalk that lead up to the front door of the imposing building, and Peter caught up to her there. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, apparently steeling herself. "Alright," she said. "What's the plan?"

"We speed in there, you use your access card to get us into her cell, we grab her, and take her back to my apartment," he replied instantly.

"Yeah, but it's not that simple," she said. "What if we run into somebody? What if we see Arthur?"

Peter's face was grim as he replied. "Then you take Elle and get her back to Claire and Sylar. Tell Sylar that I'm in trouble, and take Claire home."

She cocked out one hip, arms crossed stubbornly. "And just leave you there? Uh, no way."

"You have to. I can handle him, as long as he doesn't get a chance to touch me- and thanks to you, I'm too fast for that. But we won't run into him," Peter insisted.

After a moment, she conceded. "Fine," she said unwillingly.

Their eyes met, and Daphne nodded. An instant later, they were in the basement of Pinehearst, standing before a long row of steel-doored cells. One of them was standing open, and Daphne immediately hurried over to it, peering inside. "Here!" she called. "She's in here."

She paused in the hallway while Peter hurried in the room and knelt beside the unconscious blonde form on the floor. "What's wrong with her?" she asked worriedly, still not coming inside.

Peter checked her pulse. "She's just unconscious," he said. "Sedated, maybe." Suddenly, he rose to his feet. Something was wrong here. He wasn't sure what, but he..._ felt_ something... Like a tickle at the back of his mind, something being pressed into his head against his will...

An impossibly strong arm clamped around his neck. "Who are you?" a chillingly familiar voice hissed in his ear. "What are you doing here?"

"Knox?" he choked.

The tight grip loosened slightly. "I don't believe we've met." They had, but of course, Peter had been wearing a different face then. Recalling an old, half-forgotten power, he phased out and slipped right through Knox's stranglehold, then spun around to face him.

"How did you get in here without--?" Knox smirked, and suddenly another man shimmered into visibility. No, Peter suddenly realized as he recognized the man, he had always been visible. He had just been forcing Peter not to see either of them. "Parkman?" he gasped. "What are you doing here?"

A whooshing sound caught his attention, and suddenly Daphne was by his side. Matt's jaw dropped. "Daphne?" he asked, looking dumbstruck.

"Matt?"

But before any more words could be said, Knox stepped forward again, smirking. "Well well well. The traitor returns," he said. "I got orders about you, Millbrook."

She smirked right back in his face. "And what's that?" she asked, every inch the cocky speedster.

"Break you."

Peter was about to step forward to put himself between Knox and his newfound ally when Daphne suddenly started to laugh. "As if you could, _Benjamin_," she taunted. "You know you'd never even lay a finger on me if I don't want you to. You can't touch me!" He was amazed. He knew for a fact that she was terrified even being back in this building, afraid of retribution, but she wasn't showing even an ounce of that fear. She was confident and collected and appeared as in-control of the situation as it was possible to be. Peter didn't know how she did it, but he was duly impressed. Actually, if he was completely honest with himself, it was kind of a turn-on...

But she apparently wasn't going to give him any time to explore that train of thought, because she whipped her head around to meet his eyes. "Coming?" she asked. Understanding what she was saying, he quickly lifted the unconscious Elle into his arms and seconds later he was flying out of the cell, out of Pinehearst, out of New Jersey after her.


	8. Hearts

**A Note From Lara: Okay, so I'm on a crazy random flip-out over "Ink". It was, to put it lightly, FREAKING AMAZING!!!! Seriously, I don't care what people say, I think that Heroes just gets better with time. The characters are just getting richer as time goes on. Plus, there's EMMA!!!!!!!!! *bows down to worship* Finally, a girl who can eclipse Daphne as a match for Peter in my brain!!!!**

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Sylar listened intently to the sound of Peter and Daphne's voices in the hallway. He deliberately didn't listen too closely. It wasn't his place to pry.

He glanced back at Claire, who was still sitting in Peter's overstuffed blue armchair as their voices faded away. That day, in the Canfield house, when he had touched her hand, he had seen how much pain and misery he had put her through. It had weighed heavily on his mind ever since. But Bennet hadn't given him a chance to apologize.

"Claire--" he began, but she cut him off.

"No," she said firmly, meeting his dark gaze with her burning green eyes. "Just... no. I don't want to talk to you."

He sighed. This was what all this power had brought him. This girl, his blood relative, wouldn't even listen to him. All the power in the world couldn't repair the damage he'd done. Had it really been worth it? He didn't think so. "I just wanted... to apologize," he said softly, turning away. "I know words can never make up for what I did to you, but... I really am trying to change. I'm trying to be better. And I can't do this alone. I'll fall right back into what I was... what I still am."

She glared at him, rising from her seat with a slight grimace of pain. "Look," she said, "thank you for saving my life. I appreciate it. I like being alive. But I _do not want to talk to you_." She limped into the kitchen to get away from him. He briefly debated following her, but somehow he suspected she wouldn't appreciate it. So he stayed where he was, moving only after several minutes to take the seat she had vacated.

The silence in the apartment became overwhelming, and Sylar was just considering speaking up again to break up the horrible tension, when the door flew open.

"--Was amazing!" Peter exclaimed from the hallway. "I can't believe you stood up to him like that!"

Daphne danced into the apartment, shrugging off his comment. "Yeah, well, with Knox you can't exactly lie about being afraid. But you can lie to yourself, which always makes me feel better."

And then Peter entered the apartment. Sylar was suddenly very glad he was sitting down because, unconscious in his brother's arms, was the tiny limp form of Elle Bishop.

Oh, this was bad. This was very bad. He had thought he could handle this. He'd thought he could handle being around her again. After all, what had happened between them was practically in another lifetime. They'd both done a lot of changing- or at least, he had, he didn't know about her- over the past year. They were very different people.

"What's wrong with her?" Claire asked.

Peter shrugged, carrying her across the apartment towards the door to his bedroom. "We think she's just heavily sedated," he said. "It doesn't look like she has any injuries, so she's probably just drugged. She should come out of it in an hour or so."

As on a tether, Sylar followed them into the bedroom. Peter laid Elle gently down on the bed. Sylar stared down at her, only vaguely aware that Daphne and Claire had followed them into the room. The only thing he could really comprehend was her. Lying there unconscious, she looked so innocent. She looked like the angel he had once believed her to be. She shifted slightly, and a spark raced across her cheek.

"I have to... go somewhere," Sylar burst out. He knew his voice sounded strained, but he was far past caring. He rushed out of the apartment, ignoring Peter's voice calling after him.

--

Daphne perched herself on the edge of the bed. "Well _that_ was enlightening," she said with a glance at Claire. She nodded, an obscure look on her face.

"What?" Peter asked, not understanding. "What was enlightening?"

The speedster snorted. "And just when I thought you were a little more clued-in than every other guy on the planet," she said. "You're an empath or whatever. Didn't you pick up on that?" When Peter continued to look clueless, she shook her head in exasperation. "Peter, it's pretty obvious he's in love with her."

Claire chuckled at the dumbstruck look that crossed Peter's face. "You know," she said slowly, "as creepy as that is, I can kind of see that. The serial killer and the psychopath."

Daphne grinned. "It's kinda cute, actually."

"Cute?" Peter demanded. "Are you on crack?"

"Maybe," Daphne said, her face showing mock-seriousness. "How do you think I move so fast?"

He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. "I give up," he said. "You're impossible."

She pretended to consider that, nodding sagely. "Yeah, that's my new mission in life since I've apparently retired from the professional thief business." A worried look suddenly crossed her face. "And that reminds me. There's some... stuff... I should probably return to some people."

"What kind of stuff?" Claire asked.

She shrugged uncomfortably. "Um, just stuff."

Claire raised her eyebrows, holding Daphne's gaze until the speedster gave in. "Alright, it's _not_ just stuff," she admitted. "It's kinda the Mona Lisa."

"As in _the_ Mona Lisa?" Peter asked in amazement.

Daphne wouldn't meet his eyes. "Like I told you earlier, I'm not really the best person. I've been using my power to steal stuff."

He appeared to struggle with himself for a moment, then reached across the bed and covered her small hand with his own. "Everyone makes mistakes," he said. She didn't reply, staring at his hand. After a moment, he sensed her discomfort and withdrew it. They were both scarlet to the ears.

Claire chuckled. "I guess I'll go see what the psycho's up to," she said. "It wouldn't be really great if he started attacking your neighbors."

"I guess not," Peter said.

* * *

**Kind of a shorter chapter and a really crappy place to end it, but the other scenes I wanted to put in this chapter won't fit without running way over (since I'm trying to keep these even and all).**


	9. Truce

**A Note From Lara: I'd just like to take this opportunity to pimp my Peter/OC story Welcome to Real Life. If you like my writing, and you HAVEN'T read WTRL, you might want to jump on the Dianne Train before it completely leaves the station. I'm rewriting the whole series, and I'm deep into S1 already, so now's the time, if you're going to start reading.**

**And yes, I did lift some of the convo between Claire and Sylar from the Luke Car Scene.**

**

* * *

**

_New Jersey Highway_

Knox was silent as he slid into the driver's seat of the company van, and Matt was glad of it. He needed some time to think his own thoughts for awhile.

Daphne wasn't with Pinehearst anymore. She had stopped working for them, and apparently not because of anything he'd done, either. No, once again it was Peter Petrelli who was the hero, who rescued the damsel in distress and saved the day.

Matt would have been lying if he said he wasn't jealous. He and Daphne were supposed to get married! She wasn't supposed to suddenly quit her nightmare of a job and go gallivanting off with some stupid empath who was (presumably) back to trying to save the world. Again.

What a glory-hound, Matt thought angrily. But at the same time, he knew that wasn't justified. He was very intimately acquainted with the inner workings of Peter's mind, and the man was absolutely selfless. He never thought of himself, and put everybody else first. Matt just hoped he'd be able to do the same for Daphne, because she needed someone looking after her, and badly.

Matt just hoped that the future he'd dreamed, where the search for Peter Petrelli got her killed, never came true.

_Peter's Apartment_

_Manhattan_

He didn't have anywhere to go and he wasn't inclined towards going too far anyway, so Sylar elected to pace up and down in the hallway outside Peter's apartment. It wasn't much, but the restless motion helped balance out the similarly restless shift of his thoughts.

The problem, of course, was that he wasn't over her. That week they had spent together before all the blood and all the powers had been the best week of his life, and he hadn't been afraid to admit to himself that he was falling head over heels for her. Now, things were different. He was different. And the feelings were still there, clearing away the cotton stuffing of his Hunger and turning him completely inside out with confusion.

And that was from three minutes in a room with her when she was unconscious. Sylar was almost afraid to find out what things would be like when she was awake.

But at the same time, he tried to tell himself, he barely knew her. All of the things that she'd said and done when they'd met before had been a lie. He'd read her file when he infiltrated the Company, and the girl on paper wasn't anything like the sweet, pie-making girl he'd thought he knew. No, apparently she was a crazed sociopath with sadistic tendencies and occasional paranoid delusions.

Sylar didn't realize he'd been muttering aloud to himself, or that Claire had quietly slipped into the hallway until she laughed. He jerked his head up in surprise to find her leaning against the wall. "What's so funny?" he growled.

She just shook her head, still chuckling. When she'd managed to contain herself, she said, "I knew you liked the sound of your own voice, but I never figured you'd be one to talk to yourself." He couldn't come up with a reply to that, so he just glared at her. "You know, it's kind of ironic," she continued conversationally. "The serial killer has a thing for the psycho murderess. It's kinda poetic."

"I thought you didn't want to talk to me," he said, unable to come up with any other reply that wouldn't show how absolutely mortified he was.

Claire shrugged. "I did some thinking, after I said that, and I guess Peter's right. I mean, he always is, but still. It's time I tried to put aside the past and move on. I don't really forgive you for what you did to me- not yet. But I can at least try to get along with you. And if that means making conversation with a serial killer, then so be it."

"I'm not a serial killer," he said.

She snorted. "Uh, yeah you are. You have a signature style, you target specific victims, you collect trophies..."

He glared at her. "Alright, so I'm technically a serial killer. Do you have a point?"

"Actually, yeah. I guess I just never thought of you as human before. But I guess it was seeing the way you reacted to Elle that brought it home that you're not just the guy who attacked me. You're a _person_."

Sylar raised his eyebrows. "Yes, I am." This was really what she'd thought of him? Once again, he became more determined than ever to change.

After a pause, she uncrossed her arms and pushed off from the wall. "So you're really in love with her, huh?" It was phrased as a question, but she didn't seem to be asking as much as saying.

He shrugged. "No. Maybe. No. I don't even know her!"

"Seems to me she's a pretty good fit for you," Claire said. "I mean, you've both got serious issues. You both had sucky, depressing childhoods. She's killed even more people than you have, including her mother."

"How do you know all this?" Sylar demanded.

"I read her file. It was in a box of my dad's things."

There were several minutes of silence then, during which Sylar tried to digest this new information and Claire studied him closely. She was amazed by the expressiveness of his face. Now that she was looking more closely, she really could see a strong resemblance to Peter there. They both carried their hearts in their eyes, although Sylar managed to hide it better.

Finally, he looked up at her and said, "She killed her mother?"

She nodded. "It was an accident. She was six when her power first manifested, and she couldn't control it. She set the house on fire and burned the woman alive." Sylar didn't respond, but she could see sympathy, maybe even empathy, for Elle all over his face. Claire continued after pause. "Her power's out of control again. Her electricity's turned inward and she keeps overloading and shorting out."

There was another extended silence. Finally, Sylar cleared his throat. "You didn't come out here to talk about Elle," he said matter-of-factly.

"Not really," she said. "I'm not really sure what I wanted to say, besides wanting to bridge the gap."

Suddenly she winced and rubbed her shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"It hurts," she said, but there was a kind of bizarre wonder in her face. "I never thought I'd feel pain again, after... But this hurts. Is it really sick that I like this?"

He gave an involuntary shudder. "I can't imagine it. Losing my powers... I can't imagine it. It would be... scary."

"Scary and wonderful," she said. "You know, ever since this happened, all I've ever wanted is to get rid of it. I just wanted to be normal again. And now I am, and it's amazing. I can get hurt again. I can die, just like everybody else."

Sylar watched her closely. "That's not such a good thing to wish for," he said. "People will start saying you're as crazy as I am... was. Aside from myself and Peter, everyone else has to fight like hell to stay alive each day. Are you sure you're ready to go back to that battle?"

She shook back her blonde curls. "Not much I can do about it if I'm not, is there?"

"I suppose not," he said.

Once again, they lapsed into silence. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but neither was it friendly. They simply existed in the same place, and didn't happen to speak to each other. Finally, Sylar said, "I should probably be getting back inside before they start wondering where I've gone."

"Okay," she said.

He opened the door and stepped inside, but at the last moment poked his head back outside. "Claire," he said quietly, "You won't tell them about... about me and Elle, will you?"

She shook her head. "I'm a master secret-keeper."

He gave her a tentative smile, then closed the door behind him.

* * *

**As many of you may have guessed, I'm using this twist in Claire's fate to really develop her into a mature adult. Basically I'm going to move her more into the person she is in Volume 5. **

**I have one more chapter focusing on the Dream Team, and then there'll be some chapters exploring what's been going on with other characters as a result of Daphne's choices. Thanks for reading and reviewing. *hint hint***


	10. Decisions

**A Note From Lara:** Wow, it feels like a long time since I updated this. I've been on a Peter/Emma kick, and all my other pairings, even Daphter and my beloved PetAnne (it's OC, don't be confused) sort of fell by the wayside. But I'm trying to get those things updated AMAP before I get sucked back into the Pemma vortex.

* * *

_Peter's Apartment_

_Manhattan_

Peter nodded curtly at him when he walked back into the apartment, but otherwise didn't acknowledge his existence. Sylar couldn't blame him. He had done terrible things to his brother in the past, and he hadn't expected Peter to forget that in less than a day.

Daphne, on the other hand, had no such compunctions. "So," she said as she contemplated a Twinkie, "How's life in general?"

"Excuse me?"

She stopped staring at the spongey cake and fixed her eyes on him instead. "Peter tells me I have to be nice to his serial killer brother to 'help you through the transition--'" She made airquotes with her fingers as she said this. "And make sure you learn to control that whole urge-to-rip-open-people's-skulls dealio. So I'm attempting to make casual conversation. How's life in general?"

"Daph!" Peter exclaimed.

Sylar was grinning, though. He sat down in one of Peter's chairs, and said, "This is... good. It's been a long time since I've had a conversation that didn't involve death threats. I really appreciate that the two of you are trying to help me."

Peter shrugged. "You tried to do the same thing for me a few days ago when I was... well, you stopped me from cutting Mom's head open, so I owe you that much, at the very least."

Daphne, who throughout this exchange had been devouring her Twinkie, suddenly said, "So what do we do now? Once the electric blondie wakes up, I mean?"

Before Peter could say a word, Sylar spoke. "We have to help Mom. Whatever's wrong with her, there has to be a way to fix it." Suddenly, inspiration stole across his face. "And I might be able to do it. Fixing things... it's what I've done my whole life. It's the entire basis for my ability. Maybe... maybe I can figure out what that bastard did to her and reverse it."

"Alright, great," Daphne said. "Is she at Primatech?"

Sylar nodded. "We can go as soon... as soon as Elle wakes up."

All at once, the woman in question stepped into the living room. Her turquoise eyes were furious and she was staring at Sylar with murder in her eyes. "You!" she hissed. And then she hurled lightning across the apartment.

_Outside Tracy's Apartment_

_Washington D.C._

"Are you sure about this?" Meredith asked nervously.

Noah nodded. "Oh yeah. I got a text message early this morning from a young man the Company was watching pretty closely a few months back. A little technopath. He's received intelligence that Arthur Petrelli is alive, and responsible for the escaped villains gathering together. If he's right, we're going to need all the help we can get. Nathan Petrelli is our ace in the hole."

Meredith snorted. "Nathan? Are you kidding? He's been under his father's thumb the whole time I've known him."

"Exactly. He's our inside man," Noah explained.

"And what makes you think he'll even be willing to work with us?" she asked. "His life finally turned around, and a busy Senator can't just disappear off to work as an agent for some mysterious psycho."

Noah gave her a calculating look. "Are you sure you're not just reluctant to see him because he's replaced you with another blonde?" he suggested. Meredith glared at him, then reached up and rapped her knuckles firmly on the door.

A minute later Tracy opened the door, wearing a silk robe over her lingerie. "Mr. Bennet," she said. "I wasn't expecting to see you again, especially so early in the morning." She shot an icy look at Meredith. "Ms. Gordon. What a... pleasant... surprise."

"Likewise," Meredith said, arms crossed in irritation.

Nathan Petrelli, clad only in his boxers, suddenly appeared behind her. "Who is it Tracy...?" When he saw them, his face fell. "Meredith. Noah. Uh... if you don't mind me asking, what the hell are you doing here?"

Without waiting for any further invitation, Noah stepped over the threshold, and Meredith followed reluctantly. Tracy slid the door closed behind them. With no preamble, he said, "Tracy, your nephew sent me a message this morning."

"I don't have--" Realization dawned. "Oh. Micah."

He nodded. "He's been an extremely busy young man from the sound of things. He's been investigating reports of people with abilities, and somehow stumbled across a very valuable piece of information." Noah turned to meet Nathan's eyes. "Arthur Petrelli is alive, and he's gathering escaped Level Five villains to form an army of your kind."

Nathan didn't respond visibly to the news beyond a slight narrowing of his eyes. Meredith studied him closely. "Nathan, we need your help," she said. "We need you to go talk to him. Find out what he's up to."

Tracy responded before Nathan could. "And why would he do that?" she demanded. "Nathan is a newly sworn-in Senator. He can't go flying around on insane missions to talk to fathers who have risen from the dead."

But Nathan laid a hand on her shoulder. "No," he said, "I need to see this for myself. If Dad's alive, I need to talk to him."

Meredith nodded. "Alright," she said, "Now, Noah and I have to go. There's been a report of one of the escaped prisoners in New York. Meet us at Primatech tomorrow morning, ten a.m."

Tracy glared daggers at her, but nodded as Nathan did, and the almost-Company team walked out the door with stiff goodbyes from all parties.

_Matt and Mohinder's Apartment_

_New York City_

She threw what few possessions she had into one of Doctor Suresh's duffel bags- it wasn't like that monster would miss it. She had to get out of here, find a place of her own, before he decided to come back to this apartment...

A knock on the door called Maya away from her hurried packing. When she answered, she was surprised to find a pair of Japanese men standing before her, one of them looking harried and the other bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet in apparent anxiety.

"Is this the apartment of Matt Parkman?" the irritated one asked.

Maya stared at them in consternation. "Ah... Doctor Suresh had a roommate, I think," she said. "Pardon me, but who are you?"

The tall man gestured to himself and then to his companion. "I am Ando Masahashi, and this is Hiro Nakamura. He is the master of time and space, but something terrible has happened to him, and he believes he is ten years old." He shot a frustrated look at the other man, then looked back at Maya with a sigh. "And apparently he really has to use the bathroom."

"Uh... of course," she said, completely nonplussed. "It's... uh, in the back." Hiro ducked past her and fled in the direction she had pointed.

Ando stepped over the threshold as Maya sank, completely shocked, into one of the rickety chairs that sat around the table. "You'll forgive me for asking," she said, "but what are you doing in Mohinder's apartment?"

"We came to look for Mr. Matt Parkman. He is the only one who can fix Hiro," Ando explained. "It is important that we restore Hiro's mind as quickly as possible. We are on a mission to save the world, and Hiro cannot do it without his memories."

Maya nodded, mouth open slightly in utter confusion. "Of course," she said, still nodding. Life had gotten so complicated over the last few months, all she could do now was deal with it as it came. This, though, this was just over the top on strange. But still... she was uncursed. She was no longer carrying death within her. Maybe now was her chance to make up for her past, now that she was free?

She looked up at Ando. "How can I help you?"

* * *

The scene with Noah, Nathan, Meredith and Tracy was a little confusing, and I'm sorry for that. Also- yes, I'm bringing in the much-hated one, but what can I say? I feel sorry for her. I think if she'd actually been allowed to play out her original Volume 2 storyline, we all would have liked her, and so I'm trying to give her a good resolution instead of dropping off the face of the earth like every other supporting character.


End file.
